


Beyond Measure

by reserve



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: First Kiss, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Post-Canon Fix-It, sweet nothings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24297010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reserve/pseuds/reserve
Summary: What kind of man makes advances in a foyer?
Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier/Commander James Fitzjames
Comments: 30
Kudos: 190





	Beyond Measure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [icicaille](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icicaille/gifts).



> For my dear Liv. May the coming days be better and brighter — sometimes soft is very good.

James gasped for breath. His arm was twisted ‘round behind his back at a terrible angle. He ached. 

“Do you yield?” 

“N-no!” 

A wordless growl and his arm was pulled further back, manipulated by the wrist, until his own fist pressed between his shoulder blades. It didn’t hurt, but he felt trapped, pinned down and held. A butterfly caught on pins for someone else’s pleasure. 

“And now?” Breath, humid and hot against his neck and ear. A kiss, behind his earlobe. When had he given up struggling and just allowed himself to be kept in place? The lack of thought in it made him ache in an entirely different way, even when he had so recently spent. Who could struggle when he had the blessing of a bed, and ease in nudity; the blessing of _time_.

“Yes, yes, fine. I yield.” James tried to infuse defeat with a modicum of dignity, but Francis only chuckled at him. James could feel it vibrate through his diaphragm where they were pressed together from tip to tail. He felt sticky, pleased and warm. 

Safe, he felt safe. 

Francis let go of his arm and rolled off his back, trailed fingertips down his naked spine as James stretched out the pose they’d held, elegant as a lynx.

“A pity to see you give up so easily,” Francis said. “I like them fiery.” 

“Oh, I’m plenty fiery. I think you are _well_ aware.” 

“You are, you are,” Francis said, consideringly, admiringly. He combed his fingers through James’ hair, gently pulling out the snarled results of their tussle as James turned his head on the pillow to face him. He was content to let Francis fiddle with his hair until the sky grew dark. He was just so happy to _have_ hair again that he had let it grow out past his collar. It wasn’t in mode and it was given to tangles, especially after the kind of lazy morning they were having, but he felt terribly vain about it, and Francis loved it. Couldn’t seem to keep his hands out of James’ curls. Was always pulling out the ribbon when they were alone so that it would fall in loose waves around James’ face, or fan out across his pillow. 

“A beauty,” Francis had said, the first time James felt confident enough in his recovery that he dressed for dinner and used heated tongs to press the curl back into his locks. “As fine as any maid.” 

“Don’t be cruel,” James had said, feeling his cheeks heat up at the false praise. 

“Never. Not to you.”

“Then don’t lie.” 

“James.” Francis reached out and touched him, right in the dining room, right where the maid might see, where Sir James and Lady Ann Ross might see if they’d arrived at just the right moment. Francis hooked their ankles together, and then their palms. “Have you ever known me to speak falsely?” 

“At times you might be better at it.”

Francis scoffed. “Indeed.” He squeezed James’ hands in his, then brought one to his mouth to kiss the knuckles. “So when I say: you are—beyond _measure_ —a beauty. I mean it more truly than you can know.” 

“Francis—” James had swallowed, flushing further, from pleasure now not shame.

Francis had lifted an eyebrow. The blasted doorbell chimed at that precise moment, as though on cue to break the spell incanted between them. 

That night, after the Rosses had gone—with a series of promised invitations, and thank yous, and praise for the meal on the way out the door—Francis had crowded James against the sturdy mahogany at the moment of its closure, taken James’ cheeks between two palms, and with a determined expression on his face, leaned up and kissed him. 

James kissed back. 

“ _Christ_ ,” Francis laughed, kissing him, then kissing him again. He pushed his forelock off his forehead looking wonderstruck and flushed. “I’d’ve deserved it if you struck me.”

“I’ve half a mind. What kind of man makes advances in a _foyer_?”

“A middle born one,” Francis said, wry and depreciating. “A man who couldn’t wait any longer. One who had lost all and regained more than he thought possible. More than he surely deserves. A man—” Francis stopped to kiss him very gently, just at the corner of his mouth. “Confronted with such _loveliness_ that he might weep.” 

“My,” said James, his very soul piqued. “A poet revealed.” But he could barely manage to sound sardonic, not when his heart was skipping away in his chest, a flat stone across placid water with no sign of stopping or sinking to the depths. 

“Come upstairs.” Francis’ voice was rough and warm. Intoxicatingly direct. “Let me have you.” 

“Where you go, I shall follow,” James said. He let Francis take his hand; he gave himself up to be had. 

James smiled just remembering that night; how gentle and insistent Francis had been by turns. How bashful yet confident. It was an altogether pleasing countenance on the man who lay beside him now. There were comparably few experiences to being the object of seduction by someone who knew pleasure’s shape but worried they might go too far; to be soothed and beseeched as though out of habit alone and still ravished to the point of breathlessness. 

James had always been easy; the change of pace was appealing. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Francis was looking at him, watching him in that way he had, like James was a prize fox about to disappear into the underbrush never to be seen again. 

“Thinking about that first night,” James said, thrilled to be plain. 

“Oh.” Francis blushed. 

“How very well _known_ you made yourself to me.” 

“I see.” Francis’ mouth tilted into an impish slant. “Hard night to forget. I may still have welts down my back from your little claws.” 

“Claws! I never. Perfectly regulation.”

Francis huffed. “I certainly remember how you sounded.” He hooked his arm around James’ waist and leaned in close, as though they weren’t the only two people in the world still living who mattered. Francis pitched his breath high and panted into James’ ear. “Oh,” he said, “oh, _Frauncis._ ” 

“That’s a very poor fac simile.” 

“Is it now?” Francis shifted back to look him in the eye. “How about— _god, man, never stop. Christ alive, don’t ever stop._ ”

James felt himself flush. That was a mite better but he didn’t like to admit it. “Do I really sound so...” he paused. “Am I really so…. _wanton_?” 

“I cannot do you justice, you inflame me so,” Francis replied somberly. His eyes had gone soft. “If we were parted I’d hear your dulcet tones in my head always. You’d narrate my daily; chastising, charming, and infuriating, exactly yourself. My lode star.”

James exhaled happily. How lucky, how inestimably lucky, that they were not parted. “Take heart then,” he said. “For I am ever at hand, and until you tire of me, I’ll be there to badger you through your waking hours. A regular harpy.” 

“A siren.” 

“A crone.” 

“A veritable Queen Medb.” Francis tilted his chin up with a finger. “A warrior. Proud, beautiful.” He smirked. “Troublesome.” 

“Say it again.” James bared his throat to Francis, an offering. He showed his belly always. 

“Troublesome?” 

“Francis!”

Francis' eyes shone in the pale sunlight. He cupped James’ cheek, tender and sure. They were both so often on the verge of dying declarations; it was a hard habit to break. “Beautiful,” he said. “Beyond measure.” 

James kissed him. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, I would be grateful for a [reblog](https://reserve.tumblr.com/post/618685302824992768/beyond-measure-reserve-the-terror-tv-2018)


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